


Your Body is My Pallet

by Dreadful Weather Today (TearoomSaloon)



Series: A List of Love, Loss, and Desperation [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, but not fluff, color meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:40:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1361023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearoomSaloon/pseuds/Dreadful%20Weather%20Today
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let me touch you, let me understand you. Colors are emotions, and these colors are little notes from you to me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Body is My Pallet

**Author's Note:**

> Colors + emotions = suggesting, not saying.

_Scarlet – Lust_

            Her passion burned red. Her fingertips would sear into the skin on his back, lips would scald his throat, and words would scorch his ears, mind, and core. She was a hot coal on his chest and she ripped through his insides like a bullet.

 

_Maroon – Negativity_

            His anger was a tempest. She would hide herself away upstairs after making a wrong comment or an inappropriate suggestion, waiting for the red fires to die down.

 

_Crimson – Love_

            He was gentler than she expected, his touch tender on the sore skin of her shoulders. He did laugh at first, as would anyone when told something so _silly_ , but he didn’t scorn her. His fingers gave cool relief to her burned body, lips on her neck igniting her cheeks.

_Spanish Orange – Excitement_

            The smile she would flash him in class was distracting. He couldn’t make eye contact for fear of smiling back, the anticipation crawling under his skin.

 

_Marigold – Warmth_

            She smelled like flowers in the springtime, her dark hair a bouquet of golden aromas. Citrus and pollen clung to her, and he flocked to her like a bear to a hive, always hungry.

 

_Cream – Competence_

            She was just as smart as the others. Smarter, even. Driven, strong. He fought Klein and Tibbs to take her under his wing first. She was _his_ pupil now.

 

_Gold – Happiness_

            She couldn’t cook a steak or garnish a plate, but her cakes were made of clouds and childish dreams. She was her mother’s daughter she admitted one afternoon: she could only make sweets, but she was a master in the art of baking. He wouldn’t say a word against it, and he wouldn’t tell her how many bites he stole from her plates.

 

_Lemon – Jealousy_

            All the men in class wanted to study with her. “Study”. Hah. Yeah right, whatever, he didn’t care.

 

_Hunter – Envy_

            That’s a lie; he cared a lot. He cared enough to ask her to stay after class by grabbing her waist and dragging her into his office, locking doors as clothing was torn off skin.

_Jade – Tranquility_

            She took her tea with lemon and honey, sitting in blankets on the porch, toes curled and eyes tired from the day. She begged him to stay with her as the sun set behind the pines and the air chilled in the starlight, claiming it was a metaphor for something like them, whatever they were.

 

_Navy – Masculinity_

            He bruised her arms, her thighs, her spine. She couldn’t wear anything shorter than her elbows or higher than her knees for fear of questions. She didn’t want to admit the one comment about him seeming oddly feminine resulted in him taking her right there on the floor, driving her back into the wood to prove a point.

 

_Ocean – Melancholy_

            He left a sadness in her that settled in her stomach, cold and isolated. They couldn’t continue on like this. It had to end, and it had to end soon if she wanted to come out clean and unscratched. His darkness had begun to pour into her heart, weighing her down like an anchor caught in a violent storm.

 

_Lavender – Sophistication_

            Refined. A clear, cleanly cut stone. His facets shone in the sun, glimmering and glittering in a false purity. He was beautiful, so beautiful, but he devoured her with his wolfish eyes and his sharp teeth, his red tongue soaked in her blood.

 

_Iris – Wisdom_

            She could always go to him, she knew. He was her mentor—intelligent, educated, seemingly omnipotent. The way he watched her said he hid stronger words behind those careful lips.

 

_Umber – Strength_

            He carried her to bed when she fell asleep on the sofa, in a chair, on the floor. She was too tired for her own good, he would sigh as he held her small frame to his chest. What a strange little lamb, so small and delicate. She was lucky her shepherd had a soft spot for her quirks.

_Rosewood – Home_

            She didn’t like having to leave his house at night. The drive felt wrong and her bed was too big, the house cold and empty. Seeing him after sleeping alone made her stomach flutter and she’d curl into his body, finally home.

 

_Ballet Slipper – Sensual_

            His hands were slow on her arms, lips muttering unintelligible things into the skin of her neck. The candlelight cast warm shadows on his face, removing the lines and lifting the tiredness from his eyes. She could taste the want on his mouth as he drove her slightly insane, his touch floating down her body, feathery and weightless.

 

_Rose – Femininity_

            She knocked the breath out of him, throwing him against a wall with surprising force for a woman so small. She was an animal, carnal and heady. Her bite was a bee sting and her claws raked down the flesh of his chest. Wild and hot, she was a woman in the purest form. He had to wear scarves all week.

 

_Satin – Innocence_

            Those doe eyes hurt on a different level, a new level he didn’t know he possessed. It stung, raw and fresh. He was surprised, pricked by the morality of her, how white she was next to his black. He eased the gun from her tight hands, kissing away the tears on her cheeks while she stood paralyzed by his horns.

 

_Jet – Guilt_

            Her hands were black, covered in his blood, or the blood that he threw upon her. She wasn’t clean anymore, wasn’t whole. He chipped pieces off her, collecting them together and preserving them as one would a cracked sculpture. He collected her into his arms, his disease flowing out of his skin and onto hers, coating her mind and eyes in black ooze. His kisses poisoned her tongue, hands soiled her body, words blackened her thoughts. He stole her innocence and reaped her purity. And she’d let him do it over and over and over.


End file.
